User blog:LexPetitxVampire/The Woods
Trevor Guns had an issue, a problem, he had lost the plot. Something Trevor couldn’t let go. His girlfriend had visited him a few years back in Ohio. But she had gone missing the day before she was to leave. Trevor’s friends told him, she had gone home, that she no longer wanted to be friends or romantically involved with him. But he knew something else was up; he remembered how bad she had wanted to go back and revisit the graveyard. Which is where Trevor Guns sat. The graveyard was old, abandoned. The lot was no more than a field and the gravestones sat just inside the forest and were scattered about the tall trees and around the little creek that sat in the woods. Trevor sat in his jeep, just staring at the line of trees that made the edge of the forest, almost willing his girlfriend out of the woods. He was taken from his dreamlike state by the vibrate of his phone. It was his friend Peter. “I saw your car pull into the graveyard lot,” said Peter. “So, you’re spying on me?” hissed Trevor. He sighed. “She didn’t go home. She hasn’t updated anything, from DeviantART to Flickr. She’s missing, dude.” “And you’re not going to find her,” said Peter. “What makes you think that after a year, she’d even be alive in the woods? You can’t even survive a day in those woods. What makes you think she could?” “She was born on a farm,” was Trevor’s retort. What being a farmer’s daughter had to do with surviving in the woods for a year, not even Trevor knew. He was upset, confused and hurt. “Look, dude, just come back and come visit my wife,” said Peter. His wife was a therapist. She could help Trevor come to terms with the disappearance of his girlfriend or the break up they both had. Trevor hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye to Peter. And with that, he started to go towards the graveyard, stopping to touch a tree, that they had kissed under. Tears prickled at his eyes at the bittersweet memory. Laying on a tombstone was something that was unmistakingly his girlfriend’s. Something she would not have left behind. Her camera. Her big, professional camera. Trevor picked up the massive black box and turned it on. It was dead. Of course. But this was a clue that she hadn’t skipped town and had loved him until she had met her demise. It had a few blood splatters here and there, but it only told him she was still in Ohio. A few feet away from the camera was a shelter, made from fallen branches. She’s been living off of the nature, something Trevor never learned to do, but it raised a question. Why’d she skip out on coming home with him and then going back to her own home? Why stay out here? Did she run away from her home in California? But she had a home in Ohio. His home. More confusion. More hurt. “Trevor?” said a voice; it was like the voice of sundress cotton, soft, warm, pretty even. The voice of Jane. He looked every which way for her. To see her once more or maybe even save her. If he could save her, he could rub it in Peter’s face. Maybe even Kathrina’s face! “Trevor?” Trevor Guns came to, looking up at the circle of trees. Trevor sat up and saw the camera was on. He looked at the camera, it was a picture of paper, with something scribbled upon the paper. It said LEAVE, in all capitals. The camera flickered out. It had died. He sat up again, in a cold sweat, this time looking up at the circle of dark trees. Night had now fallen. A faint little glow rested on Trevor’s stomach. The camera was back on; being the only source of light, he grabbed it. “Trevor?” This whole thing had all the paranoid elements of a dope dream. The voice was back. “Trevor? Trevor?” “Who’s there!?” screamed Trevor. “I see you.” The voice went from the sweet voice of his girlfriend to the screams of someone locked in the most gruesome torture he could think of. Trevor didn’t turn around to help her, he just wanted out. Even when the camera lit the forest enough and he saw her standing off to the side, he didn’t stop. The low bright moon with its shadowy wisps of clouds seemed to move with Trevor, leading the way. Trevor wanted to go home and just sleep. He could hear her footprints behind him. Following him. He broke out of the forest and saw his car, still in the lot. He sped up and slammed into his car, happy to see it. He got in and turned the car on. His headlights stabbed into the darkness and made a spotlight upon his girlfriend, who stood in a blood soaked dress a mere few feet away. She neared his car and while Trevor knew he should drive away, something made him freeze, wanted to see how this was going to end. Trevor must’ve bee knackered. Then, he felt beyond daft. Then she was gone. A hand touched his arm and he screamed, a stench swirled into his nose, and it made him gag. She was sitting next to him in the car. “Let’s go home, lover.” Trevor screamed and she was gone. In her place remained another camera. Flashes of heat lightning crackled in the distance and loons cried on the lake. A camera she had used when she first talked to him on the website, DeviantART. Category:Blog posts